Conjugal
by gilbert norrell
Summary: In which L and Light, in a lecherous and whimsical turn made by the Shinigami King for his own amusement, are forced to cohabitate after death. Unadulterated crack.


It was, indeed, incredibly ironic that what began Light Yagami's descent into the finer, sociopathic avenues of narcissism—boredom—was the very definition of the demesne he'd been forced to inhabit for his eternities. And really, that was the definition of Mu: a flat, empty blankness with nothing that could be called dimension, and after a full minute of attempting to discern any sort of shape within the empty null of it all Light wondered how soon insanity would set in. (Ignorant, of course, of the mania already firmly etched in place.)

It took less than half a millisecond of that minute to know that Ryuuk was still standing over him with the morbidly blank look Light attributed to species such as gnats; if he could have examined a gnat beneath a microscope he'd have wanted to see the same expression on the gnat's face. However, now that he was dead, this metaphorically cruel sense of Ryuuk's intellectual worth seemed inconsiderate. Light's first words in death were almost a plea.

"Ryuuk, don't leave."

There was a single throaty hyuk from the shinigami that was on the verge of menacing. "Mu is boring."

Of course.

"Well," said Ryuuk, scratching his neck with one crusty nail, "I'll see ya later."

Then he disappeared.

Given that there was no one else visible Light took this secluded and private moment to scream.

The scream turned from frustrated agony to naked, unadulterated terror when Light found himself surrounded by hordes of shinigami whispering and pointing. Ryuuk was before him again, and his bruise-colored lips flapped open to emit another friendless chuckle before he cackled, "The Shinigami King's made a decision."

Light waited for Ryuuk's delight to calm; the suspense was so exaggerated he felt more jaded than impatient.

"He wants you to go to hell instead."

Ah. Well, then. Light almost, almost smiled, for this revelation meant he'd be spared insanity. In hell there might be other people, and other people meant manipulation and power.

"So, uh, Light, shut your eyes."

Narrowed eyes fluttered closed almost daintily, as if Light expected a kiss. The murmuring whispers vanished and suddenly Light could smell freshly trimmed grass.

"Okay," giggled Ryuuk.

Light looked around. Had he not been so disturbed that the Shinigami King's idea of an underworld was apparently a docile, freshly painted cottage complete with sky-blue shutters and white picket fence and charming _garden_, he would have laughed. The cottage was settled in the center of a giant plain rimmed with trees, with a charming scape of mountains in the distance. Quaint. Perfect. Charming.

"Wh–why?"

"Go inside."

Of course.

Of course a lingering sense of distrustfulness would have begun at the sight of a dropped candy wrapper just inside the threshold. It rose with a sharp taste of panic as Light meandered from entryway to living room to hallway to kitchen...

Yes. There stood L, leaning against the counter in a posture so relaxed it was _almost_ a total physical manifestation of a smirk.

"Yagami," the detective said.

"Lawliet."

L nodded and plunged his spoon back into melting tofu-based ice cream. It was horrendous but the only thing he'd been able to find besides the one chocolate.

Light's face crumpled and reddened as he lost control, but before the boy could burst into tears and throw a tantrum L crossed the cheerily tiled floor, grabbed Light's starched and bloodied shirt, and drug him to the bedroom (pastel colors, bed fitted in a virginal white, complementary soap on the pillows and the hints of a jacuzzi behind a half-opened door).

"Has he made you sign the contract yet?"

Suspicious of anything L knew of more fully than he did, Light shook his head no and resolved not to sign anything that looked like paper. He would, in fact, love to leave his signature round L's scrawny neck in the macabre form of bruises, but that would hardly suffice. His confusion and anger could not be satiated by attempting to kill someone already dead.

L wandered backwards until he hit the bed and the man fell onto the covers, limbs sprawled, and Light felt uncomfortable. Having never seen L in such a vulnerable position the action was almost intimate.

"What contract?"

"The Shinigami King has placed us in a type of purgatory."

"If this is purgatory, what are the conditions to get out?"

L blinked, then reached for one of the soaps. "According to the contract neither of us will be freed until there is deep mutual interest between us." He ripped the wrapper off the soap with his thumb, peeling it like an orange, and the scent of buttercream filled the already summer breeze-fresh air. "Mutual interest meaning..."

Well, the lascivious sniggering from Ryuuk in the other room clarified _that_.

"I refuse to sign."

"Then you'll return to Mu and I'll return to hell."

After splicing together the various threads of L's past, all that he'd been able to after the detective's death, that L's actions had led him there didn't startle Light in the least. The prospect of returning to Mu, on the other hand, made the bile rise to L's mouth. Being trapped with the detective for his eternities seemed more worthwhile even if it meant never vacating this new, utopian realm due to refusing any type of affection from rising between them.

"And there's a time limit. If 'deep mutual interest' doesn't occur within three months the same thing will happen."

Light pondered this. Then he walked over to L, but right as he was about to straddle the spindly thing and grace L's cheek with a soft, tender kiss worthy of deep mutual interest L kicked him away. Light fell to the floor with a thud.

"The Shinigami King won't accept faked affection and I'd rather go back to hell–" L licked his bar of soap "–then do this with you."

"You haven't signed the contract either."

L's response to this was to ignore Light and take a small nibble from the caked fat in his hand.

Rather then feel disgust at L's actions Light felt hysterical. His heart beating wildly somewhere in the firm, clenching dread that was the current state of his stomach region Light fled to the kitchen where Ryuuk was bippling about near the ceiling like an errant balloon.

"There's a time limit on the contract signing, right?"

"Twenty-four hours," smiled the shinigami.

Obviously the next step was in convincing L to sign. And from the state of the kitchen—every cabinet door was open to reveal nothing but bright contact paper, even the fridge was halfway open—the best choice was also obvious.

"I need ingredients for a cake," he told Ryuuk. "Now."

Ryuuk floated sideways and stared. "Okay. What kind of cake?"

"Raspberry with white chocolate cream cheese frosting," said Light, thinking of a concoction he'd once seen but never gotten the opportunity to taste. He ignored the drool now puddling on the floor beneath Ryuuk.

"Will you make an apple cake next?"

"Maybe. _Now_, Ryuuk."

Ryuuk waved one arm awkwardly as if he was trying to scratch his stomach and everything needed appeared on the counter. Not bothering with the frilly pink thing suggesting wench apron that had come into being along with everything else (he might have used it had his clothes already not been ruined) Light closed the dutch door (quaint! charming!), sealing L off, and set to work.

- - -

L had been serious when voicing his disgust. Light had defeated him, killed him, _won_, and signing the contract was somewhat too close to forgiveness. L had found the entire setup in and of itself despicable. Apparently Light had not favored Mu, to say the least, but L was not about to give up the chance of becoming a shinigami simply because the Shinigami King had decided it was amusing to force two archenemies into a romantic relationship. Now the brat would attempt to get him to sign the contract and it would take three months before he could return to an underworld he'd liked. His plans could be in shambles by then and though L wasn't lazy in the least the thought of rebuilding five years worth of work was annoying.

Thinking of all Light had planned in order to strategize his death, L decided that his next course of action would be to take a bath before he was sent back to Hell, in, oh, nineteen hours, as he'd forgotten what one felt like.

Unfortunately to his shock on entering the bathroom L received an unexpected reunion with two personages he never wanted to see together ever again. At one end of the tub surrounded by star- and heart-shaped bubbles (the wonders of the world beyond our own!) was Amane Misa, dewey with steam and giggling as she locked toes with Mello, who was lounging on the other side of the tub and smiling at the pattern their painted toenails created when mashed together. They appeared to be delving into some idle private indulgence but L had interrupted whatever blasphemy was about to occur next and they both waved at L and sloshed water and smiled perfect smiles at the sight of him.

"If you don't sign the contract—" Misa began, but L walked out of the bathroom and bellowed for Ryuuk.

"Howdy, L."

"Give me the contract. Now."

A sheaf of paper was pulled from somewhere and stuffed into L's hand. Ah, yes. Several paragraphs down:

_If L and Light do not sign the contract in twenty-four (24) hours than the time limit will cause the following to occur: _

_1. Amane Misa will be chained to L under the delusion that she is married to him and will expect all the benefits of said marriage. _

_2. Mihael Kheel will become romantically attached to Light and seek L's further destruction and plot the furthering of Yagami Light. _

"I'll sign," snapped L. Three months of marriage to Misa while enduring the most likely happy union of Light and L's second (both were inclined towards world domination, after all) would be torture in comparison to ignoring Light at all opportunities.

"Goody," sniggered Ryuuk, and offered a pen.

L signed. L walked back to the bathroom—now empty excepting a bottle of black nail polish and several wet towels—and peered through the medicine cabinet before retreating to the bedroom, locking the door, and ignoring Light's hopeful steps as the younger boy placed the frosted cake in all of its delectable glory before the door, knocked softly, and waited. L closed his eyes and waited until the knob was tried. He smiled at Light's despairing and pathetic little whimpers of hopelessness before hearing Yagami's feet shuffle, actually shuffle, away towards the front room.

It was all a farce, of course. Light was still the center of his own idealistic world and the cake was only a bullet point in his plan. L didn't care if it rotted. In fact, he made a point to step on it and track cake and frosting through the entire house when he sojourned outside the room for a brief, insomniac-induced stroll. Light was asleep on the couch.

Asleep. He had not seen Light asleep for five years and the sight of it was so familiar L almost felt warm metal against his wrist. He went back to the bedroom, kicked the crushed cake aside for good measure, and dozed till morning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm mostly insane for starting _another_ crackfic, but I really, really can't help myself. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, MY LOVELIES.


End file.
